Cast a Spell on You
by DreamALltHopeALlt
Summary: All he needed to do was cast a spell on Ivan, and then the Russian would be his. But getting the ingredients for it was another story... "10 locks of your target's hair, a lock of his/her younger sister's hair, your target's favorite object..."
1. Kolkhoz curse

This couple needs more love! :'D

Crack pairing: Arthur x Ivan

* * *

**Chapter One: Kolkhoz Curse**

~.

_The spell would have been better if he had his magic wand. But, sighing, Arthur realized that he'd left it back at Alfred's house. He was too lazy and too annoyed to go back to the idiot's place, claim his precious item, and smack the American in the head for being such an inconvenient nuisance. Seriously, when was he ever going to get peace when trying to work one of his best magical wonders?_

_Well, it was okay now. He was currently in his basement, all the supporting magicians had left him by himself (he usually worked better without them anyway), and the circle-like runes were perfectly drawn on the ground. They were ready for him to begin his incantation, to begin the 'summoning.'_

_Arthur flipped through the dusty, ragged book, skimming the text before reading it aloud. Just a few minor adjustments here and there, since he couldn't do the parts where it required the use of a wand (damn Alfred!) and then he would have the most malevolent demon raging through the ground, intent on destroying the Kraut for him._

_"Santa Barra Winza Wampa Torra Intaa Canta... Santa Barra Winzaa Nuhzaa... Wampa Torra Inta Canta..." _

_As he chanted, he could feel the glowing aura of magic leaking from the borders of the circle-rune, and increased his voice. "I summon you from a far land..." With a ripple of immense power, Arthur opened his eyes and, surrounded by brilliant white, shouted, "Now show yourself!"_

_There was more blinding light, the ominous wailing of a thousand evil souls escaping from the abyss, and then..._

_A head popped up from the ground. _

_"You called?"_

_Arthur stared, incredulous, at the maliciously smiling, violet-eyed face of Russia._

_..._

_Damn Kolkhoz! He pressed the head back underground, sweat lining his brow. _

_"Maybe I really should go back and get my wand.."_

~.

"Why are you trying to annoy me? Do you have a grudge against me or someth-?"

"Yes, I do. Well..." That completely oblivious and childish face thought. "Yes," Ivan nodded, smiling. "That's right, I do."

Arthur's eyebrows dropped with a frown. It was a little bit after dark, and he had demanded to have a talk with Russia after the failure of his spells. Yes, _spells_. He had tried, 5 more times after the Kolkhoz encounter, to summon the actual demon... and got Ivan again each time. _"You summoned me?"_ that idiot had asked innocently. _"No! I wanted a bloody demon, not you!" _And then the creep had smiled at him, with a look that clearly implied, _"Oh, but you're _looking _at the demon right now."_

"Just stop it," the Brit said, suddenly exhausted from his day's failures. Maybe he shouldn't try 6 spells in a row- even if he was a firstclass magician from the royal family bloodline of witches, he still had his limits.

"Why?" Ivan asked, still innocent. He twirled the faucet pipe in his hands, contemplating. "Will you do something about it?"

"You-" Arthur was seething with anger. "I'll unleash Kiku on you!"

"Oh, silly _Arthur_"- The Brit grimaced at how disgusting his name sounded on Russia's tongue- "have you not heard of my curse? Mine and Japan's curse of 18 years and more? It was karma, I believe... if you wish to curse someone, do not be surprised if the curse rebounds on you, da?"

"I don't need you to preach to me about curses, I've been dealing with them since I was a child." Arthur crossed his arms, coolly glaring at Ivan. "I know everything about them, and I'm _not _making the same mistakes you did at Kiku's war."

_Who are you to tell me, bloody Kolkhoz?_

"I think, you have already made your first mistake."

Arthur, previously lost in the thoughts of beating Alfred up for ruining his summoning, glanced up uneasily at the strange drop in Ivan's voice.

Fuck. When had the giant closed the space between them? Why the hell was he looking at Arthur like that, with those abnormal violet eyes so bright? _And, Great Mother of Britain, why is that Kolkhoz leaning towards me...?_

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Arthur stepped back, confused, as Ivan filled in each step he retrogressively took.

"I will now claim my reward?"

"Reward? What are you-"

His words were cut off as Ivan's lips found his, the Russian's amethyst eyes were closed to clash with his wide-eyed, opened ones. Two arms pulled him closer into that beige coat, until all he felt was the warmth of being surrounded by the soft material, and the oddly comforting smell of Russia. It was a mixture of light vodka and the scent of... _sunlight_? No, that wasn't right- sunlight didn't have a smell... but it really did smell like...

_Sunflowers? _

It took Arthur a few minutes to realize that Ivan had released him from his hold, and those lips- those surprisingly gentle lips- were lifted from him, the aura of sunlight, sunflowers (whichever) gone.

"Now that you have compensated, I believe it is time for me to head home." Ivan's cheery smile, and his voice, sounded so far away. But Arthur could still feel that startling, that abrupt ambience of comfort and warmth-

"..Why?"

_Why the fuck did you kiss me?_ his fried brain thought, but couldn't muster out.

"Hmm? ...Oh!" The Russian broke into a wider smile, and it wasn't- for once- a menacing or creepy one. It was light, it was soft...it was _normal_. "A price for summoning me 6 times," Ivan enthused, "I stole something precious from you, since you stole my precious time. It is fair, da?"

_I stole something precious from you._

"Ah, it is so late! Прости, I must go.. We will see each other at the World Conference next week, da? Do svidaniya, England!"

Arthur wanted to stop the massive form walking away from him, into the darkness of night with a whistle and a swing of his metal pipe. He had quite a few more questions to ask Russia, had quite a few more complaints and things to say. But well... Arthur sank to the ground in despair, cheeks a sudden and brilliant red.

_I stole something precious from you. _

How the hell did Russia know...?

"That was my first kiss," Arthur whispered, mortified at how pathetic those words sounded in the quietness of the October night.

xxx

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**Translations**:

Прости - Forgive me

Do svidaniya - Good bye

~.

**A/N**: I think this may be my new OTP... I'm lovin' the crack pairing idea of Arthur x Ivan, it just feels so _right _and _cute_!

Nws, the action and drama will come soon enough; this is only Chapter One, after all :P

*Kolkhoz is Arthur's way of referring to Ivan (curse). Arthur's chanting spell comes from the anime episode 13. XD Not sure if I got it completely right, but it's close C:

Reviews would be great, neh?


	2. Arthur is addicted to sunflowers

PLEASE READ THE BLOODY A/N AT THE END. READ IT, READ IT, READ IT. (after this chapter, of course)

Please :'D

_

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_**Chapter Two: Arthur is addicted to sunflowers/The Cold War lasts for 3 minutes?**

~.

_**A week later - Monday.**_

_Arthur was almost dreading the World Conference that day._

_He didn't want to see Russia, or talk to Russia, or do anything in the presence of Russia ever again. He especially didn't want to be _near _Russia; if some sort of mental insanity took hold of him, he might find himself -accidentally- leaning closer to Ivan to see if that sunflower aura he smelled was actually real and as addicting as it was a week before. If that happened- if he even caught one sniff of that scent- he would probably go crazy, would probably end up in Ivan's personal space, trying to wrap the beige coat and all of Russia around him and- in turn- have his head ripped off its hinge. No... that would not _bloody _do at all._

_So the day before, Arthur had started a project to get his mind off of the WC and Ivan. Alfred- it was always Alfred's fault, really- had been an annoying git as usual, bothering him insistently with talks of fighter planes 'made to destroy England, haha' and the failures of Arthur's machinery and his own fighter planes. Plus the fact that his eyebrows were getting way too big for comfort. ("What are you talking about, you bloody twit? My eyebrows _are _comfortable on me-" Alfred had shaken his head, "Iggy, no... I'm sayin'- people get frightened when they see those caterpillars on your face, especially little kids-") Arthur couldn't stand it anymore. He decided, as he sat seething in his office on Sunday, to take things into his own hands. It would be many, many years before Alfred collapsed from the weight of proxy, civil, and revolutionary wars, but he had something that could speed up the death..._

_Busby's chair._

_A long time ago, a killer sat in the very chair- as if possessed- and now, whoever sat in that chair next would also die a very brutal and untimely death. It was perfect for destroying Alfred._

_Arthur was almost chuckling aloud as he dragged the chair to the Conference room. He knew he was immensely early, that no one- especially a certain violet-eyed Russian- would be there before him. He'd swap the cursed chair in place of America's normal chair seat, and then watch the disastrous result in glee. "I doubt even Alfred would be able to defeat the curse," Arthur laughed to himself, filled with anticipation._

_But then, while guffawing and imagining Alfred incinerated into bits and pieces of dust, he blinked. When he looked back at the chair... there was someone sitting there. Uhm. It wasn't a blonde-haired, blue-eyed idiot, to say the least._

_"Ah, доброе утро, England! You are early today, da?"_

_..._

Fuckkk.

_Blood immediately rushed to his face, coloring up his normally pale complexion. To make matters worse- three seconds later- Busby's chair glowed a bright red and exploded from underneath the surprised Russian. It was exactly how Arthur wished for Alfred to go...but not the chair itself. The chair that was destroyed by Russia._

_Maybe the man _was _a demon._

_"Oh, this is a very cheap chair, isn't it?" Ivan, still on the ground, curiously picked up one of the many pieces of wood surrounding him. He smiled brightly- such a strange smile!- got to his feet, and headed towards Arthur. "Was it yours, Angliya? Perhaps you should take up carpentry and improve your work?" The giant was already in front of him- offering the piece of wood to Arthur and still smiling that unearthly and unnatural smile._

...That really nice smile..on that really nice face, with those really nice, enticing eyes...

_"GAHDEHD!"_

_He stumbled backwards, incoherent words leaking from his mouth, and against the wall. As in the nature of Ivan, the Russian responded by closing the empty spaces Arthur left between them._

_"I cannot understand you, England," Ivan shook his head._

Double Fuckkk!

_That..that.. that bloody _smell_!_

_It was all around him now, the sweet and warm scent of Russia- the always constant and always there smell he couldn't get enough of, that he couldn't ignore no matter how hard he tried._

_"!"_

_Now Ivan looked really confused, having cornered Arthur way, way back into the wall. "Is something wrong, da?"_

_"You're what's wrong, you bleeding freak! Get away from me with your overly sickening stench of sunflowers!"_

_...was what he wanted to say, but only a squeak of protest came out._

I want to hug him!

No Arthur, you git! Are you trying to end your life early?

But I want to-

NO!

BUT SUNFLOWERS...!

_"...that chair was supposed to intentionally kill someone, correct?" Arthur pried himself away from his internal argument and stared up at Russia's wry face. "I believe I recognize it now... the infamous Busby's chair, da?"_

_He nodded. Terrified, cornered, and waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him, only one thought registered in his mind- _Must escape.

_"Oh, did I not tell you about karma, England? I believe I have just dished out the rebounding of your curse's intent!" Ivan threw his head back, laughing, and for a brief second, there was an opening- a small path out from Russia's suffocating trap and into freedom again. Arthur gave a quick prayer to Mother Britain for his safety and success, steeled his body and mind for the impact, and aimed for the opening. He ducked his head, squeezing through the space on Russia's right, and clipped part of the man's leg. But before Ivan could grab him, he untangled his own foot from Russia's leg and sped out and past him. "England? Where are you going, da? We have not finished talking yet!"_

We're finished talking, all right!

_Arthur sprinted out of the room, ignoring Ivan's confused shouts, and only just realized- as he turned a corner and approached the safety of the reception lobby- how close of a call it actually was._

~.

**_A week and 2 days later - Wednesday._**

That night, Kiku Honda- who was staying over at Arthur's house- was startled awake by the mutterings of his friend. It was 2:30 in the morning, and he'd been trying to fall asleep after a tiring day and night playing card games, drinking tea, and talking about politics, the world, and life with Arthur. But it was hard to sleep when the Englishman kept twisting and turning beside him, an occasional curse escaping from those scowling lips.

"...flowers."

"Arthur."

"...damn Kolkhoz."

"Arthur."

"...kiss."

_Kiss?_ "Arthur!"

"...sunflowers."

Kiku threw a book at his head. "Arthur-san, wake up!"

"BLOODY HELL, HE'S GOT ME!" The Brit jerked up from the ground, eyes wide open and panicky.

"No. No, he hasn't."

Arthur squinted through the darkness, trying to find the source of sound. Kiku knew his friend was still only half-awake when he whispered, "Russia?"

"You are entitled to another guess, Arthur-san."

"K-kiku?"

"Hai."

"Kiku, what are you doing here?"

Now it was the Japanese's turn to be surprised. "You invited me to your house, as a sleepover."

"But- where's Ivan?"

...

_What did Russia have to do with any of this?_

"He is probably at home, sleeping as we should be," Kiku replied slowly. He was concerned for his friend, who currently could not distinguish reality from fantasy. "Are you unwell, Arthur-san?"

There was a moment of silence and Kiku noted, with amusement, a red streak across England's face. Not a sleeping indention or bruise- rather, something more obvious and embarrassing. "Ā, are you _blushing_?"

Arthur looked like he was going to explode- from anger, frustration, embarrassment, what?- but at the last minute, the Brit exhaled in an act of immense control. "No," Arthur said as calmly as he could, and brought his head back down on his knitted pillow. "Just a nightmare, is all. Goodnight, Kiku." He turned away quickly, before the Jap could read his expression and induce further from it.

"A nightmare, hmm?" Kiku was thoughtful. "A nightmare involving Russia and kissing...now what kind of thoughts could be invading young Arthur's mind?"

Kiku considered bringing his camera to the next World Conference.

~.

_**Three weeks later - Monday.**_

After the Busby's incident, Arthur found himself becoming more edgy and nervous around anything or anyone resembling a tall, blonde-silver haired, violet-eyed Russian. Not to mention his new and strange habit of stopping by flower shops or a garden in the hopes of catching the sight and smell of a certain golden-petaled plant belonging to the _Asteraceae _family. Sometimes, when he- platonically- went out with Kiku, his friend claimed that he would get an awkwardly odd look on his face upon spotting the flowers, and proceed to stand there for hours on end. Arthur instantly dismissed Kiku's concerned notions, and tried to continue his life as normally as possible- without the presence of a massive Russian lurking over him, or the crazy antics his mind tricked him with.

Everything would have been fine- _oh so dandy and normal_ fine- if not for the looming threat of the World Conference.

Which was today.

Where he would see Ivan.

Argh.

This time though, when Arthur arrived fashionably and intentionally late, he didn't need an excuse to avoid Russia. The man- who Arthur originally believed was out to get him- sat in the back with another person, completely oblivious to the other countries. They were huddled in the corner and were- the Brit frowned- a bit too close for comfort. Even more shocking was the fact that Ivan's companion was none other than the idiot, "the supposed American hero," Alfred.

Yes, _Alfred_.

What the hell was going on?

Arthur took his usual spot near the front of the table, vaguely brushed off Francis's insistent chattering and cooing, and thought: _America and Russia? Sitting together without a bloody massacre, or a gun pointed at each other's back?_ This was absurd. The two countries had been fighting ever since the start of the second World War, after a huge rift had broken their long-lasting friendship, and sent vibes of hatred leaking from their very pores. If he hadn't seen it himself, he wouldn't have even considered the fact that Ivan could manage a smile in Alfred's direction. But the Russian had- and it was the same dazzling, strange smile Arthur had witnessed only- _was it only?_- a month ago.

_Not _that he'd been staring at Russia for the past five minutes or anything.

Arthur forced his suspicion down as Alfred, the host of the meeting, approached the podium and all the countries took their designated seats. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught the movement of Ivan, who was- for once- paying full attention to the speaker.

"Uh, hi everybody!" Alfred grinned into the microphone, evicting eye-rolls from the majority of the table. "Well, let's see. Uhh, today we're supposed to talk about the current Crisis in the South-East, and the expansion of nuclear warheads in Europe. We're supposed to talk about all that, but there's something I really need to say before we start on those things..."

Normally America's voice caused headaches and annoyed sighs, his speeches completely ignored (since they only consisted of, "EVERYONE SHOULD LISTEN TO ME BECAUSE I'M AN EFFING HERO-") and dismissed, but today- there was something solemn and attention-catching about his words. Curious despite themselves, Arthur and the rest of the world leaned in to listen.

Alfred smiled and nodded towards the table. "If you will, Russia?"

There was an almost strained silence as all eyes followed the person being called up; Arthur couldn't tear his own gaze away from that tall form.

"Privet, каждый." Ivan greeted the countries and smiled. Arthur felt a strange twinge in his chest.

"Me and Ivan have an announcement to make," America continued. The grin grew wider and, shocking and evoking gasps all 'round, he produced a gun from his suit pocket. On his right, Ivan also brought out his own weapon- the notorious faucet pipe. "We are declaring war on each other," Alfred stated, calmly. He turned to face the Russian with the gun already cocked and aimed at the chest; Russia's head dipped and he raised the bloodstained pipe menacingly.

The silence was deafening- no one dare move. _"You bloody git!"_ Arthur wanted to shout at Alfred to get down and stop messing around, before a fucking war started in this very room. But he hesitated because, somewhere beneath the fear of another World War and catastrophe, he was a bit relieved that the announcement was nothing else but a war declaration. For a minute, the Brit let himself believe it was something much more than that...something that involved secret smiles and huddling close together in a corner-

"Oh my God, your faces are priceless!"

And just like that, the spell was broken. Alfred burst into a wide grin and doubled over with laughter, while Ivan brought a hand to his mouth, chuckling and murmuring something like, "lololol." (but of course, it was actually "kolkolkol"...right?)

"Uh..._what_?"

"I do not understand, aru."

"America-san-"

Arthur's eyes widen as Alfred grabbed hold on Ivan's sleeve and pulled him closer, until their bodies were rammed together- side by side. The American git grinned and dropped his gun on the ground. Ignoring the stunned sea of eyes, he leaned his head to the side and enthused, "It was a joke! The war is over."

"And we have a confession to make, da." Ivan giggled and, if it was possible, pressed himself even closer to Alfred.

"Me and Russia-"

"Have-"

"Become-"

"One!"

And then, without bothering to warn anyone, without considering what he was doing to poor 'ole England's heart- or better yet, the hearts of every country in the room- Alfred whirled around and rammed his lips on Ivan's. It was longest knee-popping, ice-cream melting, sloppiest kiss Arthur ever had the misfortune to witness.

...

_GEHJUJDLDFDSWTFF?_

Beside him sounded the 10 dozen clicks of Kiku's camera.

xxx

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**Translations**:

доброе утро - Good morning

каждый - Everybody

Privet - Hello

Angliya - England

Hai - Yes

Ā - Ah

*If any translations are wrong, feel free to correct me. I used Google for them, heh.

~.

**A/N**: I'M SORRY EVERYONE. T_T I know how rushed-sounding this chapter is, but I felt like I had to include more before I started on Arthur's spell ingredient search. Chapter Three will be just as bad, but please bare with me. I have to get out the basis of things (no matter how horrible it is, or how messy the event-line is) before I begin the actual action everyone's waiting for. Forgive me, and don't give up on reading just yet, yo! C:

Additional notes~ I enjoyed writing a spazzistic Arthur very much :'D It was fun. It was very _enlightening_. Arthur's gibberish and brain-dead, sunflower-filled mind hits me as something very plausible OwO.

*Busby's chair is reference to episode 26 of the anime, my fav ep. _Asteraceae_ is the family title of le sunflower~

Reviews/critiques are welcomed :D

(And thank choo, my previous reviewers and alert/favorite-ers, you guys make my day! Don't worry, I'll try to continue this story and update as much as I can~)


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